


When Tomorrow Comes

by EmptyPagesDream



Category: Batman - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptyPagesDream/pseuds/EmptyPagesDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. After being ripped away from a loved one, Dick falls from grace and feels the pain of losing yet another member of his family. Where would Batman be without his Robin? How will Dick cope losing the one person he called his partner?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Tomorrow Comes

**Author's Note:**

> So after reading Batman Incorporated, I just knew I had write an aftermath fic. So take a seat and prepare to cry! 
> 
> I don't any part of Batman by the way.

            Eyes fluttered open as the sun broke through the cloudy skies. A young man clad in black and red woke up to the carnage of a war. Dick grabbed his head, trying to make sense of what had happened. He remembered telling Damian to run before he was flung across the room into the glass case of a knight. His muscles ached and his body protested each movement as rubble rolled off his chest. Glass shards dug deep into his skin and the gash above his eye disturbed his vision of the empty battlefield.

            Yet with all this pain Dick was experiencing, nothing could compare to the sight of a torn “R” that rested a few away from him. Dick closed his eyes trying to remember when Damian lost his symbol, but that was when he noticed the trail of blood.

            “No.” The word flew from his lips as he saw his legacy hidden in the dirt and gravel. Dick commanded his aching body to move, starting at a slow walk and moving into a full sprint. All of the pain from the battle couldn’t add up to this one moment. Dick’s voice pierced the now silent battlefield as his legs quaked and he fell in front of the boy. He called for Bruce, for Jason, for Tim, for anyone to tell him that this was just a nightmare, for anyone to tell him that things were going to be okay. His breathing became harder to control as the lump in his throat rose. Damian was lying there in a pool of his own blood. Dick questioned if this had been Leviathan’s motive all along, to take away the one thing they had sworn to protect: family.

            Damian hadn’t been granted a swift death; arrows littered his body and a gaping hole had found its home in the middle of his chest. The red of the Robin uniform was stained with dried blood, distorting the once vibrant color that Dick once worn. Damian was lying there broken, clipped of his wings and taken away from the world of the living.

            “No.” Dick’s voice lingered in the air as he reached toward Damian, grabbing at one of the arrows that jutted out from his small frame. One after the other, arrows were pulled free and Dick’s tears joined the crimson pool that Damian rested in. The pool rippled with each tear drop while Dick cradled the boy wonder. Damian’s pale, bloodless cheeks nestled against Dick’s and he felt how cold the boy was. There was no hope, not this time. Dick’s uniform grew darker as blood spilled from Damian’s body onto his own. Damian struggled until the very end, struggled to make sure the Heretic wouldn’t touch him. Dick screamed and pulled Damian closer, feeling the cold body grace his own. He shouldn’t have let him join the battle; he should’ve made sure that the kid would go home.

            “God, what am I going to do without you,” Dick whispered as footsteps drew closer to him. The pounding in his head shut out the outside noises and blackness claimed his vision. One last thought entered his head as he whimpered. Damian wouldn’t be there when he woke up.

*

            _“Grayson, what are you going to do without me?” Robin asked as he carried Batman into the cave._

_“I’m not dying, Robin,” the former boy wonder replied as he removed the cowl, showing his blue eyes to the darkness._

_“You didn’t need to push me out of the way,” Damian replied as he seated himself on the floor in front of Dick._

_“Yes I did. It was either a bullet in my chest or a bullet in your head.”_

_Damian’s eyes widened in shock as he watched his older brother strip the Kevlar armor to examine the bloody wound. In a few moments, Alfred would come down to criticize the both of them for being careless and remove the bullet that was trapped in Dick’s body. The Boy Wonder sat there looking at the older man treat the wound as he thought how the mission had gone._

_“I was too careless,” he whispered, looking away from Dick and to the glass case that held his father’s costume. How could he expect to live up to his father when he was trapped in the man’s shadow._

_“Damian. Good work today.” The newly bandaged Dick put his hand onto the boy’s shoulder._

_“What do you mean? I disobeyed your order and you got shot because of it,” the boy stated, trying to shrug the hand off._

_“Dami, I made an entire career out of disobeying Bruce. Yes, you disobeyed me, but you followed the first rule: Robin always makes sure Batman gets home. You did a good job; I know Bruce would be proud of you. I know I am.”_

*

            Dick woke up with a gasp before succumbing to his burning body. He was in his room in the manor with Barbara sitting close to his bed. He looked at his hands to see the dry blood of his youngest brother as memories of the previous day began to surface. Dick creeped out of his bed against the protest of his body and moved the sleeping redhead onto the bed. He rubbed his eyes as he directed himself to the window; the sun was peeking just over the horizon. Yesterday happened, his brother died. He sighed and left the room as he made his way to the cave. There was something he needed to do.

*

            _“You don’t need to try so hard, Damian,” Dick said, making his way to the boy who was getting his arm stitched up by Alfred. “You don’t need to fight with Tim.”_

_“Tt. Drake was asking for it. Besides, I am better than he ever was,” Damian replied as he lept off the table to change into his civilian clothing. “I am the heir to House of Al Ghul and my father; how can I ever live up to them if I do not show myself as the superior to the Swan Queen.”_

_“Well kid, if you hadn’t noticed, you’re already wearing the “R” on your chest and you’re my partner, not Tim. You’ve already showed me how strong you are.”_

*

            Strength. That’s the one thing ick needed right now as he limped down the cold stone stairs of the Batcave. His body continued to groan in protest, but Dick made it down the stairs to see the empty computer chair. Dick guessed that Bruce was out trying to find Talia. The former boy wonder carried himself to the glass memorial that held Damian’s costume. The boy died a hero; the boy died making sure that _his_ Batman would make it home safely. All of those words Dick had ingrained into Damian now pained him. His heart ached as agony ripped into his chest. Damian had died because of his rules.

            “Why did you do something so stupid?” Dick whispered looking at the golden “R” of the costume.

            “Grayson, what are you blabbering about now?” a voice questioned. Dick jumped back as he grabbed one of the spare batarangs left on the nearby table. “And people say I am the paranoid one.”

            “Damian?” The name left his lips with ease as he stared at the small boy before him. The batarang clanked onto the floor and the sound echoed in the confines of the cave. “Damian, what are you - what are you doing here? What’s happening?”

            “Tt. Did you expect someone else? I live here too you know,” the boy stated as he made his way closer to Dick. He picked up the fallen weapon and placed it on the table that Dick stood behind. “Have you been hit with fear gas again?”

            Dick’s eyes welled with tears as he lunged over the table for the boy and pulled him into a hug. Warmth, his cheeks were warm; the boy’s entire body radiated heat. Dick let a few stray tears fall from his eyes as he squeezed Damian. Damian was alive; he didn’t know how, but the boy was alive. He saw Damian’s broken body; he ripped each of the arrows out of the boy’s small frame just a day ago and covered the hole that the Heretic’s sword had created. Now Damian stood in front of Dick without a single trace of the damage that the clone had caused.

            “Did you wake up from a nightmare again, Grayson? Do I need to call Pennyworth to check on you?” Damian asked as he attempted to push Dick away from him. The boy’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment.

            “No! No, you’re dead. You died saving us, saving me. Damian, oh God, Damian you’re here,” Dick said as he pulled the boy closer. “Don’t you ever leave, please.”

            “I will not leave, I promise. Look, I did not die, I am here standing with you while Father looks for Mother,” he replied, returning the hug. “There could still be poison in your system, I should get Pennyworth.”

            “No! Please, just stay with me for a little bit. I – I dreamt that you died, this… this has to be a dream though.”

            “Grayson, will you pull yourself together? I am clearly standing here before you. I. Am. Not. Dead. You must be experiencing some trauma from the last mission. Are you sure you do not require any assistance? I believe Gordon is upstairs as well.”

            “She’s sleeping, so is Alfred. We don’t need to wake them up. I just had a bad dream. If we woke them up I would look like a little ten-year-old.”

            Damian gave him a swift glare; he, after all, was ten. Dick smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. The black locks found a place between Dick’s fingers and he felt heat from the boy’s fuming scowl. A smile found its way to Dick’s face as he pulled his hand away. It’s real, Damian’s here with him. His baby bird was home. Dick’s smile grew larger and he pulled his brother into another hug, just so he can feel the warm cheeks against his own again. He placed a soft kiss on the boy’s forehead as he let him go. Damian’s eyes widened as he slowly returned the smile that found its home on Dick’s face.

            “Dick?”

            “That must be Babs. Come on Damian, let’s get her.”

            “DICK!”        

*

            Dick woke up covered in a cold, chilling sweat with Barbara hovering over him, her green eyes illuminated the darkness of the rook and her face frightened. He shook his head, pulling her close to him.

            “Babs?”

            “Are you okay? You kept tossing and turning. It looked like you were having a nightmare.”

            What had been a dream turned back into reality. What Dick had assumed was reality faded into a nightmare; his blood ran cold as he buried his face into Barbara’s shoulder.

            “Babs. Babs, I didn’t want to wake up. He was there, Babs, he was there.”

            Dick felt her arms wrap around him before he started shaking. Dick knew he was probably taking it the hardest. He felt like he lost the most when Damian died, when Damian died saving him. Not only did his brother die, Robin died, Dick’s Robin. Where would a Batman be without his Robin?

            Dick opened his eyes to the darkness, wishing they would claim him again so that he could see his little brother, just for one more moment.

*

            Dick woke up to see the sun come over the horizon; this time he felt the warmth come through the open window. Barbara left a note on his dresser saying that Alfred had made food for them and the rest of the family was downstairs. Dick didn’t want to face them; he didn’t want to show the red in his eyes, the pains of sorrow. He didn’t want to show them how much he was hurting. It was easier when he was wearing his mask; at least then he could pretend that he didn’t cry.

            The smell of fresh food guided Dick down the vacant halls and toward the staircase where he heard laughter from the table downstairs. In the dining room, he saw Barbara chatting with Jason and Tim helping Alfred place the dishes on the table.  Each spot on the table was set to be filled with the family and piled high with food.

            “Oh dear, it seems that I have put too many plates on the table,” Alfred said as he reached to the spot that was once occupied by Damian. The butler frowned and excused himself to the kitchen as Tim followed to see if the man was okay. Alfred lost another piece of himself; as yet another Wayne was to be buried much before their time.

            The clock door to the cave swung open as Bruce appeared to have glided towards the table. Black bags hung beneath his eyes as he met all the gaze of everyone at the table. Dick stared at him; he hadn’t bothered changing out of uniform which Alfred would normally frown upon as he sat down at the table grabbing the fresh cup of coffee before him.

            “I need at least two of you to patrol tonight, I have a meeting with the board,” Bruce stated as he took a sip of his hot coffee.

            “That’s it? Dick asked as he rose from his seat. “Your child is dead and all you tell us is to patrol? There are bigger things than Gotham! We should be looking for Talia!”

            “Dick, sit down,” Tim pleaded as he pulled at his brother’s arm.

            “He has a point, you know,” Jason said as Tim gave him a harsh glare. “We’re all sitting here pretending to be happy when we should really be after Leviathan.”

            “I will take care of that. Personally,” Bruce stated as he looked at his oldest son. You all will be needed here in Gotham tonight.”

            “No, the fucking mission is over,” Dick shouted as he moved from his chair towards Bruce. “Your son gave his life for your damn city, for my fucking life. We all should be out there taking vengeance for him; we should all be looking for a Lazarus Pit to bring him back. We all should be doing everything we can for him, not you.”

            Bruce didn’t dare to look Dick in the eye while the rest of the family sat in shock. Bruce and Dick had their arguments in the past but this was one of their worst interactions in a while. Dick was grieving for his little brother, while Bruce could only see himself as the sole person who could take the steps leading up to Damian being avenged.

            “Will you look me in the eyes for once, Bruce? I understand that you took us all in because we wanted to make Gotham a better place, but this one time. This one time I want to be selfish and I want to do something for myself. You let me go after Zucco; you made me Batman because you trusted me. Trust me just one more time, let me find them. Let me bring our boy back home,” Dick pleaded as his hair cascaded over his eyes. Bruce sat in silence before rising to his son’s eyes. He stood strong and lifted Dick’s head so that they matched gazes.

            “I will look for Talia. I will cancel my meeting,” he replied.

            “THIS ISN’T ABOUT WHAT YOU WILL DO! Will you stop! You are being selfish, more selfish than any of us are. Even when one of us dies for you, for your fucking cause, Bruce, you can still only think of yourself!”

            Dick lashed out, hitting his father across the face, watching Bruce fall onto the chair he was once sitting in. Sharp wooden splinters scattered across the floor. Dick stared at his hand while he quaked and stared down at his father.

            “Just one time, just one time I want you to stop thinking about yourself. Stop thinking that you have to do everything on your own,” Dick said as he began to walk away from the table.

            “Dick, stop. He wouldn’t want you to act this way,” Barbara said as she hugged him from behind. She could only hear his cries as he tumbled own toward the floor. Jason stood close by, not sure how to act and Tim helped Bruce to his feet.

            Bruce knew Dick was right; making his son’s death was his way of coping. His selfishness was his way of redeeming himself. He had lost another soldier on the battlefield, a mistake he swore he would never make again. Bruce grabbed the coffee from the table and clung to shadows, making his way down to the cave. There was work to be done. There was a funeral to schedule.

*

            _“Damian, where are you?” Dick called as he roamed the forest of the manor. He sent the boy to go have fun and what does he do? He decides to get himself lost._

_“Grayson! Come quick,” the boy answered as Dick sprinted through the dark bushes of the forest. Dick made his way through the final piece of shrubbery to see fireflies scatter in the empty field. “Look at them.”_

_“The two of them watched the fireflies dart back and forth in the cool autumn breeze as they tried to find their way home. One small fly was left behind, but was soon found by another and another that eventually led it back to the swarm, back to the family._

_“This is what it’s like for you, right?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“It’s never completely dark for you, is it? There’s always a light on even if it is behind you, Grayson.”_

_“I guess you can say that’s right. Maybe I’, just a hopeful person, but I try my hardest to make sure the same light that shines for me goes to you too.” The two boys stared at the dancing fireflies. The bright swarm weaved back and forth, ascending and descending through the thick oak branches around the manor. Damian was entranced by the light and Dick watched the boy hold his hand out when the flies spun around his hand. “Let me ask you a question. What would you give now to have had more time with Bruce before he disappeared?”_

_“I… I don’t understand the question.”_

*

            “I know what I would give for you, Damian,” whispered Dick as he touched the photograph of Damian staring at the fireflies. He had caught the boy on more than one occasion looking at them, completely entranced by the light they gave off. He looked at the boy and how happy he appeared in the warm glow of the night sky. “I would give my own life. You were so young; you had so much to live for, so much of your life ahead of you.”

            Dick sat in the closed confines of his room. After what he’d done to Bruce, he thought he shouldn’t show his face to the rest of the family for a while. With a sigh he put the photograph back on his dresser as he moved back to his bed.

            “Damian. Damian, why did you have to go?”

*

            A storm trekked across the skies as a family, shrouded by the clouds of grey, made their way up cracked stone stairs. No one spoke, no one made a single sound. Their steps echoed as they moved. The five steps leading up to the oak doors seemed to last a mile as the family carried their burden. Today was the last time they could all be a family before they had to say goodbye.

            Beyond the doors rested a child in a small four foot coffin. Each of them had experienced loss before. Yet in this instant, each of them knew that this would be the most painful thing they would ever know. Tensions from a week ago lingered as Dick and Bruce avoided each other. They both treated Damian as the most precious thing in the world. Their baby bird had been taken from this world and the only thing they could do now was mourn for him. Talia had disappeared off the map entirely and she even destroyed the known Lazarus Pits. This woman had killed her own son to make a point to the Bat family and she was going to make sure there was no way out. She wanted to destroy them, one person at a time.

            The great oak doors that stood between them and their child were breached from the inside by an elderly man. He greeted the family with an apologetic smile, offering his condolences before he guided them to where the boy currently rested. Inside they saw the funeral home decorated in soft blues and various paintings. The images of the walls pictured life and death, celebrating the lives of the lost as angels descended from the sky to bring the dead onto their shining chariots.

            Jason paused to look at the images of the chariots taking a man away. He didn’t remember anything that had carried him into the afterlife. He had just heard the insane laughter of a clown and the loud rumble of an explosion before the fire consumed him. After that, he knew peace, but it didn’t come some enough.

            The second Boy Wonder remembered being ripped away from all that he loved as he remembered the intense inferno. He remembered the way the flames licked his skin and how the sheer agony broke his voice. The explosion tore his mind away from the land of the living. Now he was back, all because of a woman who had taken away another child from Bruce.

            Jason glanced at Dick and Bruce standing tall with what little composure they had left. He knew they were hurting the most; it was hard to think that people so close could die in their line of work. Heroes: the world believed that they were invincible. They had to pretend that they were. Jason even thought Damian was invincible just like Bruce, just like Dick. Maybe that was why this moment had to come. To show how fragile and fragile heroes really are. They all thought they would make it through the war together. Yet, another maniac just had to show how wrong they were.

            “Since you have a large party, I ask that the mother and father be the first to enter.”

            “The mother won’t be attending,” replied Bruce. “Dick, Alfred, will you two come with me?”

            “Of course, Master Bruce. Of course. Master Richard, will you come?”

            Dick made no reply; this was the first time Bruce had spoken to him since they had that fight. He simply walked forward into the elegantly decorated room, tailing the two older men. Beyond this arch was where Damian laid. Beyond this arch was where Robin was, but the world would never know that. Heroes can’t die. Batman and Robin live on. But what is a world to a Batman without his Robin?

            Bruce and Alfred stopped just past the door as Dick paused behind them. The two men saw the open casket and couldn’t bring themselves to move any further. Dick walked past them; his pace grew faster and faster until he could see Damian lying inside the small mahogany casket. Their boy was resting in there with his hands placed on his waist. Dick looked at him; he had never seen the child rest so peacefully. It felt wrong; he was used to Damian waking up with the slightest agitation. The blue-eyed man heard the funeral director say that Damian would be resting at the house for visitation until the funeral tomorrow. The man absolutely hated that word, resting. Damian wasn’t asleep. Their little bird would never move again, never speak again, never wake again.

            The silence of the room was broken by the youngest of the three. Dick broke down in front of the casket. His moans and cries were heard by the others outside of the room. He wanted to be strong, he tried to be strong. Dick had volunteered himself to put Damian’s costume in the glass case after the terrible nightmare. The entire time, Dick had seemed calm, but the agony was tearing at his heart and his demons lashed out against him. When the family left the cave, Dick sat there in the dark in front of the memorial. He cried his heart out as he curled into a tight ball, rocking himself back and forth saying his brother’s name over and over again. Dick used to be the family’s rock in the cold, black river of pain and sorrow. He was shattered beyond repair as the water carried away the fragments of his heart further and further to the bottom of that dark river. Tears streamed from his eyes and his screams resonated within the room.

*

_“Robin! Get out of here. Now!”_

_The Heretic’s hands clutched at Nightwing’s throat as Robin attempted to get the monster’s attention._

_“Leave him alone! Look at me!”_

_Nightwing was thrown across the room into the glass case. The shards dug deeply into his skin as he turned his gaze to his little brother threatening the armored fiend._

_“Look at me. Touch him again, I’ll kill you!”_

*

            “You were right. You were right. We were the best, Dami. Oh God, why, why did you do something so stupid?” Between each shaking breath the words struggled to come out. Blood ran between the cracks of his fingers as his nails burrowed deep into his palm. Maybe, just maybe, the pain would go away. Dick’s gaze turned from the floor to Damian’s peaceful face and back to the floor again. It hurt too much to see him like this, knowing that he couldn’t ever wake up.

            “I really don’t know, I really don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Damian.”

            Bruce attempted to advance to console his eldest son, but was halted by Alfred.

            “Master Bruce, I believe that he needs to do this on his own. There will come a time when you can be there for him.”

            Dick’s sobs grew heavier as his voice quivered about how unfair the world had become. A war between mother and father had torn their only child away from not only them, but from the world. Damian would never grow up to exist outside his parents’ shadow. Damian would never grow up to drive a car and spend time with friends at the mall. Damian would never grow up and kiss a girl under the starry night sky and show her his fireflies. Damian would never grow up. Never.

*

_“Grayson, I think that I am ill.”_

_“What did you do now? Should I get Alfred?”_

_“No, you should be sufficient. Pennyworth’s help is not necessary.”_

_“Wall, what’s the matter?”_

_“Brown, she has done something to me.”_

_Dick chuckled as he turned away from the young boy. The smile on his face grew and an idea began to formulate in his head._

_“Well tell me then.”_

_“When I am around her, I feel lost for words and this annoying smile will not leave my face. There is a lump in my chest and my neck, it feels warm. I believe I am ill because my face turns a light red-”_

_“You mean pink.”_

_“A light red when she gets close. What do I do? This foolish girl is haunting me. I believe she is working with Ivy, Brown is working to betray us.”_

_“It’s not Ivy, Little D. Hmm, I think I know what to do. To stop all the pinkness, you should get flowers and give them to Stephanie. It will cause the disease o stop spreading and return back to her. Watch her cheeks carefully. If they don’t turn pink or red you need to give her something else. Chocolate perhaps?”_

_“Do you think that will work, Grayson?”_

_“It will Damian, don’t worry.”_

*

            The storm came the next day; the heavy, blackened clouds conquered what little light was left in the family’s world. Lightning streaked across the sky, thunder roared, and the rain tapped against the windows of the manor, trying to force its way in. Damian would be buried in the family grave, along with many other Waynes that had given their lives for Gotham. Many of those from the hero community came to pay their respects for the boy and attempt to help the family heal. Diana turned her eyes to the ceiling and whispered a prayer of her own, invoking the blessings of her own gods. She hoped that Charon would guide the boy down the River Styx so that he would rest peacefully. Clark stood as close as he could to Bruce, who had his head turned down in what looked like a prayer. Clark knew better; Bruce was whispering about how he had failed yet another member of his family and didn’t deserve to be a father anymore. Bruce whispered about how much of a failure he was. He won the battle, but he had failed to avenge one of the most precious things in his life.

            The priest spoke his words of prayer and prayed that Damian would find his peace in Heaven alongside all the others who had died in the war for justice. The priest didn’t know just how much the boy had fought, just how much the boy had changed from when he first stepped through the doors of Wayne Manor. Damian was taught by his mother to be a wicked boy, a demon. He was raised to be a great assassin just like his grandfather. When he was brought to the front step of the manor, he claimed that it was his birthright to become the Batman. In his death, Damian had become a hero. He died a hero that sacrificed anything and everything to see peace in the world. He died knowing compassion; he died knowing what it was like to be happy.

            “There should be crying in the streets. This boy did everything he could for this city,” Diana said with her eyes glued to the casket. “All of them, they should be praised publicly rather than hidden behind those capes and masks.”

            “That’s the way they want it. That’s the way a lot of us want it. They may just be people but they are heroes, and they can never die,” Clark said as he pulled a weeping Lois close.

            “I feel like there is something more we can do, something more we can do for them,” Diana whispered.

            “If I could, I would fly around the world and rewind time. Get rid of all of this,” Clark said. “But Bruce knows how you feel, and that’s enough.”

            Their chatter was cut short as Dick made his way to the front of the casket along with the other pallbearers. The white of his eyes was disguised by a deep red, and black bags hung beneath the, Dick hadn’t made any attempt to sleep as of late. He spent his time in his ravaged room and in the darkest of night, he cries echoed in the halls.

            Diana reached her hand toward her teary-eyed face. Clark’s strong composure was betrayed by his quickening breath. Jason stared into the crowd to see Barbara holding Stephanie and Kara. Of all the people that could be strong for others, it would be her. His hand gripped the cold metal of the casket as it was lifted up onto their shoulders. A ten-year-old boy shouldn’t be this heavy, but the burden of saying goodbye weighed the wood down. The world that they fought so hard to protect was broken and what remained was locked away in a single box of wood.

*

            “Hey Jason,” Dick asked as he looked at the white obelisk before them. The rain had them both soaked as people departed from the funeral. The two of them refused the shelter of the manor; they didn’t deserve to hide. Dick was there to face his guilt. Jason was there to take care of one of the people he called his brother. It was time that Jason finally started acting like a member of the family.

            “Yeah?”

            “When you died, did you know?”

            “Did I know about the Replacement? Of course I did.”

            “Not what I meant. Did you know just how much Bruce loved you? How he would have done anything to bring you back?”

            “I knew, I just wish I knew that when I was alive. There was so much anger then, so much to prove to him. I needed to be better than his Golden Boy. It always came back to you, how much better you were at everything. How much he loved you.”

            “He loved you too, Jaybird. He really did.”

            The rain tapped on the freshly shoveled soil and splashed onto the great monument. Droplets rattled on the ground, filling the void of sound before either of them was able to speak again. Thunder softly hummed in the clouds and Dick turned his gaze upwards, trying to find something in the sky.

            His eyes squinted past the rain trying to identify the one source of light peaking beyond the clouds. Was this the God that took Damian away? Was it his way of telling them that things are going to get better or was it the little robin reaching out?

            “What was it like, Jason?”

            “What, death?” As it stared me down, I was scared. I was scared that the sick clown that killed me would get to Bruce. I felt so haunted by his laughter. Even after he left, I heard that damn laugh right until I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was – I was happy.

            “There was no chariot there to bring me to where I belonged. There were no angels that dug me out of the rubble, I saw Bruce do that himself. All I know is that when I opened my eyes, I wasn’t alone. I was with people who cared about me, who cared about all of you. I bet you that they are there for him too. That little devil is watching us as we speak.”

            “Thanks, Jaybird. I know that he’s in good hands now.”

            “He’s with the best, Dickiebird. You know I saw everything, right? I was there every time you visited my headstone, every time Bruce did, even when the Replace – Tim did. I’m sure that Damian is here too. Little D loved you.”

            Jason turned away, leaving his words to linger with his older brother. He wasn’t used to being the good guy; he had stopped doing that a long time ago. However, now wasn’t the time to start a fight. Maybe Bruce would let him stay for a little while, until things settled down again.

            “I love you, Damian. I hope you knew that,” Dick whispered as he followed his brother.

*

            “I asked Alfred once if I was a bad son. I never declared vengeance on their graves, I never set a clock to the time of their deaths, and I never really visited them after they died. Alfred told me that I wasn’t a bad son. He told me that they are probably up in the sky somewhere, smiling down at me.

            “What I’m trying to say, is that I want you to know that I still care about you, I’m not going to forget you Damian. I don’t want you to ever think that I would stop caring. I love you and don’t ever forget.”

*

            _“Are you with me, Nightwing? The odds are completely against us.”_

_“When did we ever let that get in our way? Now the question is, are you with me, Robin, the Boy Wonder?”_

_We were the best, Nightwing. No matter what anyone else things.”_

_“We did good, didn’t we?”_

_“That is grammatically incorrect, you know.”_

_“Not that we did well, but we did good things. Together. You and I. Batman and Robin. Nightwing and Robin. Dick and Damian.”_

_You are right. Are you ready?”_

_“On three. One, two… three!”_

*

            “Grayson, you better take care of yourself. I won’t be there to watch your back anymore.”

            Far beyond the realm of earth, a small boy watched his older brother walk away the grave once again. The man stood there so often that there were marks in the grass from where planted his feet. Damian’s face slowly twitched into a smile as he watched his brother don his costume once again.

            Damian learned all he could from the man; Dick was his mentor, his friend. It was an honor to wear the symbol that Dick once wore, the symbol that he created. It was an honor to not only be Robin, but to be his friend.

            Damian never told Dick that, but he had a feeling the man already knew that.

            “Take care… Dick. I love you too.” 


End file.
